The two boys turned in unison to see a figure climbing out of the visitor’s dugout.

“Bernard?” asked Lester.

“That’s right, little brother. Who’s the clever one now?”

Lester’s first impulse was to grab Thomas and make a break for it. But something in the confidence of Bernard’s smile told him they weren’t alone. Sure enough, looking down the first baseline, he saw his father approaching from the opposite side.

Standing behind home plate with the fence behind them, they were trapped. Lester peered into the outfield and spotted the narrow opening of the floating walkway at the edge of the marsh. He was gauging the distance, trying to determine if they could reach the boardwalk without being caught, when Thomas grabbed him from behind.

“Do something!” Thomas said, pulling Lester in front of him like a human shield. “You said you could protect me!”

“Don’t come any closer!” Lester yelled, thrusting a hand out in each direction. He tried to sound braver than he felt. It was two against two, but he didn’t think he could count on Thomas for much help. “I won’t let you hurt him!”

“Easy, son,” said Mr. North. He’d been slowly moving toward home plate but stopped and motioned for Bernard to do the same. “There’s no need for anyone to get hurt.”

“I don’t want to do it,” Lester threatened. “But I’ll fight both of you if I have to.”

“Right, squirt,” Bernard taunted. “You and what army?”

“I didn’t need an army last time,” said Lester, wiggling the fingers of his left hand.

Lester’s fear had morphed into anger at the sight of his brother’s sneering face. He wouldn't run away from Bernard like he always did, not this time.

“I bet you couldn’t do that again if you tried,” Bernard laughed. “Look at you. You’re shaking.” Then turning to their father, Bernard said, “Come on, Dad. What are we waiting for? We can take them.”

“ENOUGH!”

The three boys froze. While the command had come from Mr. North, the voice was not his own. More growl than speech, it was guttural and low and shook the ground. Lester thought of his last encounter with Mac, the dog.

“I’m sorry,” Mr. North said, letting out a controlled breath and sounding like himself again. “But this has gone too far. Bernard, you will be silent. And Lester, you will hear me out. After what I have to say, if you still want to walk out of here with that boy, we won’t stop you.”

Bernard looked as though he was going to protest, but a sharp look from his father seemed to change his mind.

“Are we in agreement?” Mr. North asked.

From behind Lester, Thomas whispered. “We can’t trust them.”

“How do we know you’ll keep your side of the bargain?” asked Lester.

“Because — I’m your father.”

Lester looked into his father’s eyes. They were clear and unblinking, with the same determination he’d seen in them every day of his life.

“Alright,” he said. “I’m listening.”

“Good,” said Mr. North, his posture softening as Lester lowered his arms. “I understand you think you know what’s happening here, but you don’t. Yes, our family are Keepers of The Dark. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but it wasn’t up to me. There is a procedure that must be followed. Still, I never felt right about having to lie to you. As to the matter at hand, I know you believe you’re trying to help someone in need. That’s admirable, courageous even — if misguided. Despite what you might have heard from your brother, The Dark has a greater purpose. One I’ve served faithfully, my entire life.”

“No purpose could justify such monstrous means,” Lester said, unable to hide his disgust.

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“People die, Lester. There’s nothing anyone can do about that.”

“Want to bet?” Lester said, stepping more fully in front of Thomas.

“And sometimes,” Mr. North continued, “when they die, especially if it was sudden, they can get — stuck.”

“Wait. What?” Lester asked, puzzled. This was not where he thought the conversation was going. “What do you mean stuck?”

“In every practical sense, they’re dead, but something inside them won’t move on. Their bodies continue to go about their lives, driving to work or wandering through the grocery store, but it’s not them anymore. From that point on, they exist in a kind of limbo. As Keepers of The Dark, it’s our duty to release them.”

“Is that how you live with it?” Lester asked, even more confused. “By telling yourself that you’re releasing them?”

“He’s obviously lost it,” Thomas whispered from behind Lester. “Don’t listen to him. Let’s get out of here while we still have the chance.”

Mr. North shot Thomas a withering glare.

“Let me get this straight,” said Lester. “You expect me to believe that Truck Boy was some sort of dazed undead?”

“Who?” Mr. North asked. “Do you mean the Lingering from earlier this evening?”

“Lingering?” said Lester.

“It’s what we call those who remain. And I wouldn’t put it quite that way, but yes, he was. You’re still not seeing all of the pieces, Lester. Trust me. If we didn’t help them, it would be much worse. Do you remember the morning you witnessed the car crash?”

Lester looked at his father in surprise. “How do you know about that?”

“Let’s just say that your mother has some interesting friends.”

Was that why Amanda’s aunt had waved at Lester from behind the tree as if she’d known him? Because she was friends with his mother?

“The young man you call Truck Boy,” said Mr. North, “was the victim of an unfortunate accident at the Bishop Farm the night before. But instead of passing on, he became a Lingering. The next morning he got into his truck and headed to the feed store. He’d probably been planning on it before he died, not that he would have remembered. It’s like they’re on autopilot, mindlessly repeating things they did while alive.”

“Jennie Poole,” said Lester. “She created the fog that caused the accident.”

“By their very existence, the Lingering upset the natural order,” said Mr. North. “Their continuing presence in our world causes disruptions, like equipment failures, power outages, or train derailments. When a Lingering is responsible for weather anomalies, like lightning or an earthquake, they’re ironically labeled natural disasters. Sometimes, a Lingering can even affect the behavior of a large group of people celebrating, say, a Pumpkin Festival.”

“You’re telling me Truck Boy caused the riot?” said Lester.

“Not entirely. Most likely, there was already the potential for things to get out of hand. The Lingering’s appearance merely gave it a nudge in that direction. It’s not as if they know what they’re doing. Their unnatural state creates ripples around them that have bad consequences. That’s why Amanda’s Aunt was trying to slow Truck Boy down long enough to release him that morning. Your arrival was a complication she hadn’t anticipated. She had to make a choice. You never thought it was odd how you managed to escape all that chaos without a scratch?”

Lester replayed the images of the accident in his mind. The cows. The swerving truck narrowly missing him and shattering The Ditch’s mailbox instead. Could what his father was saying actually be true?

“Don’t tell me you’re buying this?” said Thomas.

“If it’s really that dangerous,” asked Lester, “why did you wait so long to release Truck Boy?”

“We weren’t waiting,” Mr. North scoffed. “Lingerings aren’t easy to catch. It’s as if they can sense us. Like opposite ends of magnets, the closer we get, the faster they move away. Add to that having to be careful we aren’t seen doing our work, and the whole endeavor becomes like trying to catch lightning in a bottle. Amanda’s Aunt chose to save you instead of stopping the Lingering, resulting in an accident. Then Mr. Poole and I missed him at the festival, and there was a riot. Each time we fail, there’s a cost.”

“And when you do catch one, where is it you think you’re releasing them to?” Lester asked.

“That is not for us to know,” Mr. North said as if repeating an answer he’d been given to the same question.

Lester shook his head. “All these years, you and mom shunned everything and everyone that you deemed out of the ordinary or weird. Yet you were involved in this?”

“That’s my fault,” said Mr. North. “Don’t blame your mother. I was afraid that if we didn’t fit in — if there were even the slightest hint of who we were, we’d be discovered. I couldn’t risk losing you boys. That’s why we let Mathis go to Crowley. Do you think I don’t miss him every day? It eats at me. But I would agree never to see him again if it meant he was safe.”

Lester’s father had always been unflappable. He was the disciplinarian and rule-follower whose only emotion was annoyance. He’d never shown a hint of vulnerability until now. If even part of what he was saying was true, Lester imagined what it would be like to carry that kind of worry around. He could almost feel the weight of it bearing down on him. People liked to comment on how Lester took after his mother, with his slight build and dark hair. Still, at that moment, Lester felt he understood his father in a way he never had before.

“If all this is true,” Lester said, “why come after Thomas?”

His father looked past him with a steely stare. “He knows why.”